Junior, Junior
by Prose Vanity
Summary: The life and lies of Natsume Hyuuga, the father. He's starting to think maaaaybe being a Dangerous Ability was easier than being... this. "Welcome to Daddy Hell, Natsume."
1. Chapter 1

**Junior, Junior**

Natsume wants a Natsume Junior.

Mikan politely declines.

Natsume persists.

Natsume gets a giggling, googley girl.

_Welcome to Daddy Hell, Natsume._


	2. Chapter 2

He stared at Mikan very, _very_ improperly.

Which said a lot, because they were _married_, and what was perhaps "forbidden" during their premarital days might not be so forbidden now that they've actually tied the knot.

But _no_, Natsume was staring _way_ too improperly. It was just as well that Mikan hadn't noticed. Yet.

When she did, she nearly choked on her evening cereals.

"What the _hell, _Hyuuga!" Wiping dripping milk from her chin _probably_ gave Natsume more _improper_ thoughts. He took one more spoonful of cereal before resuming his... gazing.

"You _are_ a Hyuuga now, too, Strawberries," he mumbled in musing.

"You _are_ my husband now, Firewhack," she retorted so quickly. "What's with the stare anyway?"

He leaned back on his chair and shot her a dark look. "I was just thinking... we have nine plates here at home. Only two of them are being used."

Her hazel eyes widened in wonder. "So?"

"So..." His voice was liquid lava, melting through her brain. "It would be nice to make a few creatures to use them, eh?"

She stammered and recovered, but just a little quick. Too quickly, in fact. "You don't have to keep thinking about me like that! You pervert!"

Natsume smiled an _eeveel, eeeeeveeeel _smile, then stood up and carried her to the bedroom. "Alright then," he chuckled, "I won't _think_ of you and _that_."

-;-

The next morning, he woke up to Mikan's shriek of mingled joy and shock.

"Natsume! I'm pregnant!"


	3. Chapter 3

Natsume always really wanted a junior. Same eyes, same hair, same brains. He had Youichi, but he was ten when Youichi was three and it wasn't the same way now that he was well past his twenties and Youichi was already living a life of his own. It just wasn't the same. And besides, he was always fond of children who were not unlike himself, and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out why he wanted his own bouncing baby boy.

Of course, that goes without saying he never really thought of the process. The whole nine-month process of pure grueling horror. At least, by the standards of a guy like him, who always had a tolerable mother and a tolerating father. By Mikan's third month he concluded that his life was a living irony, having turned out to be a not-so-tolerating husband to a not-so-tolerable wife.

Three months! Mikan's stomach wasn't even a bubble yet! It was just a mound of flesh! And she's already asking for the oddest things, like wasabi and peanut butter sandwiches or cabbage-and-broccoli stew!

_This is hell._

Her shy voice interrupted his mental mumblings. "Natsume?"

He grunted. "Mm?"

She stepped into his line of sight, looking bashful and way too adorable for his liking. Because really, getting knocked up suited her very, _very_ well... He'd been having troubles staving off further _inappropriate_ thoughts, because while they were inviting (hell, they were practically screaming in his ear), the object of his thoughts was currently unavailable for... Ehem.

Ah, the damn pregnancy effect.

"Natsume," she called out, dragging him from his thoughts again, "um..."

He offered her a hand and when she took it, he pulled her onto his lap. "What is it, Polka Dots?"

She was biting her lip. Ah, that damn pink squishy thing he'd love to do miracles to—

"Could you make me some cranberry-milk lemonade?"

..._what the heck is that?_


	4. Chapter 4

He never had much problems with picking up groceries. That is, until she started asking him for fluffy cotton balls and chocolate syrups and a whole lot of other girly-girl food. Pink. Green. Blue. PURPLE. Just looking at the myriad of colours that his shopping bag contained every time he left the store clutching her list in his hand, he felt sick.

A pregnant woman really _is_ monstrous, to say the least. At the moment, it was Mikan's fifteenth week of pregnancy, and he was ever so glad he wasn't Ruka.

And then she started making him _bake_.

_Damn it._

He retorted by making her solve a couple of Math problems every night, and leaving a few reading materials before he left for work every morning. Because hey, if their kid was going to have a sweet tooth, then he was sure as hell not getting a puny brain. Not on Daddy Natsume's watch.


	5. Chapter 5

You know you're screwed big time when she starts calling you at work.

_"Natsume! Could you please pick up some cherry juice and a flagon of buttermilk, please? Oh, and a new Sudoku puzzle book, I just finished the last one! Oh, oh, and and and one more tiny, tiny thing – could you please pick up some milk tea? And some chinese cabbages. And kim chi. And do you want eggnog for a night cap?"_


	6. Chapter 6

It's tiring, this husband thing, Natsume thought.

He clambered tiredly into the bed and quietly debated over the possibility of needing a glass of milk chocolate close at hand. For all he knew, Mikan might wake up and ask for one and he'd probably tell her to go get it herself but she'd then mumble about how scared she is to go out of the room.

Nothing to lose with being a little prepared, he thought. So once again he left the bed, went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of the drink, and then went back to the bedroom. Setting down the glass by her bedside table, he sighed and raked through his jet black hair. A quick glance at the clock told him it was half past ten in the evening. Early.

He chanced a quick look at the sleeping woman beside him. She snored lightly, and when a stray hair landed on her nose, she almost sneezed. Her nose scrunched up and a small squeaking sound erupted from her tiny frame. It was adorable. He smiled in spite of himself; how someone could be such an angel and a devil all at the same time was just beyond him.

His gaze fell and found the five-month bulge that settled comfortably between him and his wife. The baby was growing fast, and Natsume once again smiled when he recalled the doctor's words — "We can't be too sure yet, but it appears to be boy." He was going to have a son.

His mind screamed in delight when he first heard the words... A son.

He was going to have a little Natsume!

He laughed, excited at the sheer thought. One less plate stays stagnant inside the kitchen cupboards.

One more reason to look forward to coming home in the evenings.

One more reason to live.

While he contented himself with brushing through her hair, she stirred and fixed a sleepy eye at him and smiled groggily. "Go to sleep," she mumbled, "you still have work tomorrow, don't you? And put a shirt on, you might get a cold. But really, sleep. You can't keep staying up so late."

For the second time that night, mirth escaped from his lips. Of course, even after all this time, she was still as selfless as ever. There she lay, five months pregnant and constantly in danger of losing her life and her child, and still she worried about him getting a cold from sleeping without a shirt.

He never felt so lucky.

A few minutes later, he slid under the sheets and turned off the lamp. It wasn't long after, however, that her small voice entered his consciousness and made him smile again.

"Natsume, can I have some chocolate milk dr—"

Her sudden pause alarmed him momentarily and he turned on his side and opened the lights. He saw her sitting up and looking at the glass that rested atop her table.

She looked surprised, but the expression slowly softened into mingled gratefulness and amusement.

He never smiled so much in one night.

Yeah, sure. It was tiring being a husband, but it never felt so worth it.


	7. Chapter 7

That _incredibly_ awkward moment when your pregnant wife asks for beer and is crying all over you trying to get you to say yes.

The dilemma here was too great for him. If he didn't give her beer, she'll get stressed out, which was not good for both mother and son. If he _did_ give her beer, well he'd be damned. Imai and Ruka both checked up on Mikan as often as him. Both options, however, were equally stressful on his part.

"Um..." He began just as awkwardly. "Let's... get you some orange juice?"

"No no no _no!_" she wailed. "I want _beer!_ Please, Natsume, please! Just one tiny, _tiny_ glass of beer!"

He rubbed his temples. Going out on a Sunday morning with your pregnant wife was probably something he never wanted to do again. Making his mind up halfway to the cafe, he dragged her along and sighed. "Alright then."

But then she stopped. He looked round at her. "What is it?"

The thing about pregnant wives is that you can _never_ really yell at them. It was forbidden. Especially when she's all swollen up and seven months into the ordeal. So when Mikan suddenly posed him one of her most angelic - eh, demonic maybe? - expressions, he just wanted to scream at her. She was so infuriating even without the hormonal imbalances of pregnancy. _Why_ did she have to be this difficult?

She bit her lip. "I want ice cream..."

He looked scandalous. "What? A while ago I was buying you ice cream and you started crying saying you wanted beer! Now you _want _ice cream?"

She bit her lip harder. "I want ice cream..."

He breathed out and took her hand, letting his fury slide out. "Alright, alright. Let's go."

The ice cream stand was on the other end of the gigantic park square.

When he bought her ice cream (rocky road, extra thick, three scoops on an XL Belgian waffle cone), she flashed him a brilliant smile and happily kissed him full on the lips, dragging out the act a little too long. When she broke off, she had an extra-rosy tinge to her cheeks.

Ah, yes, she was definitely so infuriating.

He kissed her again, this time not so gently. She squeaked in protest but then the kiss mellowed into something much more sweet than the ice cream she was holding. The ice cream man laughed at them and gave her an extra scoop (strawberry). "She's pregnant with your first child," he said when Natsume thanked him. "Your kid needs lots of sweets to get through life."

The man smiled at him and he smiled back.


	8. Chapter 8

Nothing scared him more than the thin lines of red that stemmed from between Mikan's legs eight months into her pregnancy.


	9. Chapter 9

"Eight-month pregnancies are the riskiest of all, Mr Hyuuga," the doctor said. Natsume could only stare at the floor. "I don't want to give you false hopes of any sort. I want you to prepare for the worst."

He bobbed his head in a tired sort of nod until he heard Imai speak up. "Is a choice likely to be made?"

Confused, he looked up and glanced at the woman to his right. She only returned his glance, but he felt a little scared when he saw hesitation in his friend's eyes. Anything that made Hotaru Imai hesitate never meant good.

The doctor sighed. "I'm afraid so." She then left afterwards, only sparing Natsume a pitying look.

Imai made to follow, but he found his voice and stopped her. "What was that about? A choice between what?"

She seemed close to crying, and though she clearly had control over her emotions, she still only managed to say, "Choose her, Hyuuga."

And a whisper. "Please."


	10. Chapter 10

He just flipped when the monitors came alive. The buzzing filled his ears and before he could focus on anything else, a nurse pushed him out of the room. The doors closed just as he heard Mikan scream, and the moment his back hit the wall of the hospital corridor was torture like he had never known before, not even in the hands of Persona.

He was ever so grateful when he heard voices. Imai held his hand and Ruka wrapped an arm around his shoulder to steady him.

He felt feverish and dizzy with fear. "They'll be fine," Ruka kept saying to him. "They'll be okay."

He took a deep breath and stared ahead of him, unseeing. "They'd better be," he growled at the door. "They'd better be, because that's my wife and my boy in there and I'll tear out those doctors' and nurses' guts out if one of them will _not _make it alive."


	11. Chapter 11

God forbid he'd ever get as scared as he was. Waiting. Waiting. All the waiting was making him lose his marbles.

Three hours since Mikan's sudden attack, and he still heard nothing from the doctors. Nothing! Not even a nurse to come out of the room to say anything! Never really having been a patient man when it came to situations like these, he started getting restless, pacing to and fro, at one point driving Imai nuts enough to make her yell at him to stop and sit down. He tried, but there was so much going on in his body and he did not know how to control it.

"Go look for anything to do," Ruka suggested. Natsume considered the thought. He could burn down the building, but of course that would be a tad bit improper considering his wife's dire conditions and the possibility of roasting his baby boy. He could play a game — no, that wouldn't work... A book? No, no, no — he had to do something fast-paced and energy-consuming and physically draining. He felt like a hunter in need of a hunt.

He supposed one reason why he felt so incapable of relaxing was his training during the Academy years — students in the Dangerous Abilities class were taught to fight not just physically but mentally as well. They were trained well to turn psychological pressure into physical strength, to delay the crippling effects of fear and maintain level-headedness during times of great stress. Sadly they were also trained to channel said psychological pressure into actions and motions strong enough to kill another human being. They forgot to teach the DA all about handling the mental side-effects of a wife in labor and a child on the way, both in danger of losing their lives. (But then again, no DA trainer ever thought of the possibility of their trainees living long enough to live a proper life.)

Mikan had been transferred to the delivery room shortly after the episode and all had been quiet for Natsume since then. Pacing did not help him at all, so he decided to go to the hospital canteen and look for anything to eat or drink. He took his time wandering amidst all the stalls, and he stayed to watch television just to get his mind off everything else if only for a while — dozing off in the process.

When he woke up, he checked his watch and felt the panic. He had been gone for nearly three hours. Quickly he ran back to the waiting room, only to be greeted by an empty bench where Imai and Ruka were supposed to be sitting. He looked through the glass window of the labor room door and saw nothing of his wife. He cursed, berating himself for forgetting, and waited until a nurse stepped out.

"Miss? Where is the woman in there - Mrs Hyuuga?"

He felt a tiny tug of pride at the sound of the name, but it quickly disappeared when the nurse quietly said, "She has been returned to her room, sir."

He breathed a sigh of minor relief. "And the child? Is my son okay?"

The nurse shook her head and only said, "I'm afraid you don't have a son, Mr —"

Natsume never heard the end of her statement. He just ran towards Mikan's room. He didn't have a son. His son didn't make it. Already he was beginning to plan the many ways to skin the doctors alive. He wondered whether setting them on fire would be too much, too theatrical, but then again they were too incompetent, unable to save his son's life. And the nurses, what to do with them? Perhaps a quick flick of the knife—

When he opened Mikan's room door, he was met by dozens of flashing pink Alice-crafted balloons that popped and reformed upon contact. For a moment he was at a loss.

Balloons?

Then he noticed the flowers as well. What was going on?

And that was when he heard a tired giggle and Mikan's small voice saying, "Hello, Daddy Natsume."

His eyes fell upon his wife, looking tired and spent, laying on the hospital bed, with something on top of her chest. It wriggled, and a round pink fist came flying into view before disappearing behind the towels again.

One look at the swaddling bundle and the pieces fell in place. He smiled a really, really big smile and laughed as the bundle moved again.

He didn't have a son after all.

"Kasai Hyuuga," he whispered as he grabbed his baby's tiny fist. The small hands clamped tight around his finger.

"She likes the name," Mikan mumbled, watching him intently. "She'll be a daddy's girl then."

"Apparently," was all Natsume could say.

* * *

_Kasai means "fire". (:_


	12. Chapter 12

_Ashynote to Meimi, an anon reviewer, and to all other readers who feel the same: _I apologise if you think the chapters aren't well detailed and that there is no solid plot to the story at all (because truly enough, I don't put in many details and this really doesn't have much of a direction). This fic is one of my earlier exercises on flash fiction, and I guess the 'plot' (if I can call it one, heh XD) of this drabble series is just Natsume being Natsume but with a baby girl who's twice as crazy as Mikan ever was or will be. I guess the whole point of my writing this one is all fun. It's fun writing this, and I do hope it's fun reading it too. (:

* * *

The first time Kasai sneezed (at a measly eight months after her birth) was the most adorable thing Natsume had ever seen. Mikan decided to cook spicy food, and he was with her in the kitchen, playing with the black-haired baby, when Kasai caught whiff of the pepper.

For a moment, Kasai went crossed-eyed and her nose wriggled... and then she sneezed.

_Ah-chi!_

He almost jumped and giggled and laughed in delight.

_Almost_.

Because the kid sneezed fire, which burned his hair, which sent Mikan into fits of laughter so terrible she almost fell to the floor.

(In the end, she did.)

Mikan just rolled around laughing at him when he ran to the tap and doused his head in cold water. Now he knew how she probably felt all those years in elementary school, when all he did was try and scald her scalp to get her to notice him.


	13. Chapter 13

The thing about having a fire-breathing (metaphorically speaking, but in some cases literal) baby girl is that you can't really do anything harsh whenever she decides to set something on fire. (Thank goodness for Auntie Hotaru's Handy Insta-Spray Fire-Proofer. Of course, the prices are _pretty_ high, but Natsume has decided to ask the kid for reimbursement once she gets her own job.)

But the thing is, he doesn't need to prepare for the build-up of annoyance because Dada Natsume_ doesn't really mind._

It's not like he _wants_ to, but he actually enjoys watching little Kasai run around the house and tap on a tabletop and make it explode, or set fire to flowers in her Mama's garden, or burn her most-hated baby food (apple, cranberry, and banana mix) to crisp black lumps. Mikan sort of hates him for liking his daughter far too much, but he just can't help it. This was _his_ fire-breathing baby girl. He loves the kid, loves how she already uses her Alice at fifteen months, loves how she seems to favour him and not her mother, loves every single _inch_ of her so deeply he felt like pummelling to death whatever insect tries to get its proboscis or whatever on her fair skin and -

"NATSUME! KASAI SET FIRE TO YOUR GAMING CONSOLE COLLECTION!"

- and _she did not just do that!_


End file.
